The Land
by HitsuKarinluv
Summary: Maybe history would repeat itself. Maybe but Arthur was going to fight it the whole way. AU. Sequel to "The Water"


"Artie! Artie, guess what I found! Well, maybe I didn't find it... it was more like it was given to me but, anyway, I have all this tea that the lady at the docks gave me! I don't really like tea but she said it came straight from England and you've been here a while so I thought I'd give it to you!"

The excited babbling of the blue-eyed teen had become a normality in the older teen's life. It had taken three arguments about whether or not Alfred was a hero before the Brit had given up entirely and just let the boy have his way. Not that he believed the insolent brat, he had done nothing to deserve the title of hero and in Arthur's opinion: neither had his father or grandfather.

They had only helped a just as bratty and twice as childish mass annoy their motherland so severely that the motherland had been forced to cut ties. It wasn't that the British military couldn't have won the American Revolutionary war; it was just that it wasn't worth the trouble trying to keep such a tumultuous relationship going. If the 'Americans' wanted their independence, so be it, the British would only sit back and gaze across the sea with the words 'I told you so' ready for when they screwed it all up.

Besides, after staying in this new land that these strange people called America, Arthur wasn't sure how the nation, if you could even call it that, was still standing. Despite being a united front in the war, these colonists and their families seemed to agree on nothing and were still struggling to establish any sort of coherent government system nearly fifteen years after the end of the war.

He hadn't believed his grandfather as a child when he had told him that the Americans were some of the stupidest people he had ever met, but, well, blue eyes stared concernedly at him as if he looked like he was going to feint, "Artie? You okay? I thought tea was like your favorite thing in the whole world! And it's British tea!"

Arthur's attention snapped back into reality when he realized he'd been staring, quite intently, at Alfred, "Arthur. My name is Arthur. Furthermore, yes, I am perfectly healthy and no tea is not my 'favourite thing in the world'. Additionally, your grubby American hands have already touched it; therefore, the tea is no longer purely British and I am uninterested."

Alfred pouted at him, "Arrrtiieeee. I'm just trying to be nice to you! I thought you'd miss home! You've been here for basically forever and I know I'd miss home too. Unless it's true and America really is better than Britain and you've decided to actually stay forever, because in that case I totally understand because I agree, this land is the best pla-"

"Alfred"

"Yes?"

"Please stop talking."

Alfred's mouth squeezed closed upon the request but Arthur knew it wouldn't last. The kid always had something to say or something to prove. If it wasn't Arthur he was talking to so excessively it was the people in town that got the brunt of his chatter.

Sometimes... sometimes Arthur felt like he understood Alfred's non-stop behavior. Both his grandfather and father had achieved some sort of recognition for themselves by fighting and being loyal to their country. And Alfred... well Alfred loved them both and he wanted to make them proud of him. Yet, he was much too young to join the political field and he talked too much to get away with starting a career early. Basically, he was the kid in town that although he had grown into a teenager's body, they still felt the need to take care of him. Sometimes Arthur thought he could see the struggle in Alfred's eyes

The want to be independent like his nation.

The need to do something worthwhile and earn that recognition.

The spirit to fight and prove himself to be an adult and not some whiny little kid that everyone needed to look out for.

Arthur wasn't sure if Alfred had gained the maturity to read the things out of the green in his own eyes but he was sure that, as much as he wanted to deny it, he had similar ambitions to the boisterous boy. The only major difference was that Arthur was actually mature enough for the dreams he set in front of himself.

He wanted to be a lawyer, take the field by storm and win every case set in front of him. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that it was within grasp, but that's what he was working for and that's what Alfred interrupted every time he bounced up with something new to say. At nearly twenty, Arthur had read almost every law book he could find and had nearly completed studying in his homeland to do exactly what he had always dreamed of doing.

Ironically enough, he was following in his grandfather's footsteps just like Alfred wanted to with his.

Even more ironically, the only thing that was stopping him from achieving those dreams and making his grandfather proud was that he was in the former colonies under that very same grandfather's wishes... to tell a man something he didn't even understand .

Why had telling Alfred's grandfather that message been so important? When he had asked what the man he was named after's last wish was, he had expected something more practical. Not some wonky trip across the ocean to say all of two sentences that he didn't even get to know the context behind.

Something about it all made his heart tug at his chest. Speaking to this man had been more important than graduating from his university but still he couldn't know why. It was like a bedtime story he never got to hear but still had to defend.

None of it made sense, and yet, as long as he made his namesake happy, he had to force himself to be content. Suddenly, Alfred's eyes were much too close to his own and Arthur found himself leaning back in alarm, "What'cha thinkin' bout?"

Arthur crossed his arms, "It's of none of your concern."

Alfred leaned back again and stuck his tongue out, "Well then, prissy pants, don't tell me. I just wanna get to know you better. So, you said tea isn't your favorite thing right? So what is your favorite thing or is that also 'of none of my concern'?"

He glared at the younger teen before averting his eyes, "You're correct to assume that is also of none of your concern but if you must know, it's the landscape. Not here, not in London, but everywhere. The land is a series of connected continents and islands that separates and pulls people together and apart. The land tells a person what to be loyal to and dictates who share the most similarities. It is where humanity resides and where decisions are made. It is the reason that any of us know the world as it is. It is the land."

Alfred was staring at him as if he had said something crazy, Arthur could feel it without turning back to look at him. There was a long awkward silence in which Arthur considered several times standing up from his place on the hill and walking away, never looking back again.

To be quite honest, Arthur wasn't sure what exactly he was still doing in America anyway. His family hadn't left yet, and he couldn't leave without them, but why were they staying? He had already delivered the message and completed the quest they had been given. So, what was keeping them there? Or were they given extra information that he just wasn't trusted with?

He wasn't sure why, but the past few months had completely turned his world upside down. This wasn't how his life was supposed to turn out. He was supposed to graduate law school and get a hearty pat on the back from his grandfather, his idol. He was supposed to be his grandfather's favorite; after all he had been the one that spent the most time with him before he had passed away. Then…then he was sick and one single request had shattered Arthur's perspective of the world. He thought…he thought he had been told all the stories and learned all the tales but now he was standing in an unknown land for God knows why, delaying the career that he only pursued because he thought that would be what his grandpa would want most before he passed.

He guessed it was a good thing that he enjoyed the practice as much as he did.

"I think that's silly Artie."

Arthur found himself glaring at the obnoxious boy beside him. He was already holding his hands open in front of him as if in surrender, having dropped all of the tea he had brought in the beginning, "I mean…I…well, sorry I didn't for it to sound like I was making fun of you. I just don't think your logic really lines up. I mean we created boats to travel right? And that's the sea, not the landscape. Sure, I was born on American land and that shapes a lot about me, but you're here now and you were born somewhere else. Your birth in England didn't separate us so you can't really say that land keeps people together or apart. People do that. My Pops was from England too, you know, but he came here and left your grandpa behind. And now…now you're here because there was something keeping them together still. Where they lived didn't change that."

Arthur blinked. He was used to Alfred babbling…but he wasn't used to Alfred actually making sense. He opened his mouth to try to vocalize that point but Alfred interrupted him, "Don't tell anyone, but my pops said that he loved your granddad way back when. He told me that's what that message was about."

Arthur's veins felt ice cold, "WHAT?"

Suddenly, he was staring incredulously at the younger boy, who was staring, half-smiling, up at the sky as if he hadn't said anything unusual and Arthur hadn't just yelled at him. Alfred didn't respond within any reasonable amount of time so Arthur forced himself to his feet and grabbed the younger boy's shoulders, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Alfred stared almost stunned back at him, "The message you brought to my Grandpa, of course. Didn't I say that?"

The British young man could feel his blood starting to boil, "Are you trying to tell me that my grandfather liked men the same way he liked women?"

Alfred shrugged and looked back at the sky, "Not really, no. You could interpret that from your own message but I only told you that my pops loved yours. That's why I told you not to say anything. My Pops is respected here and something like that coming out to the public could ruin it all. I mean…I know that no matter what he's still a hero. He's my hero. But that's probably why your pops wouldn't tell you details. He was worried about his own reputation and the reputation of your family. It's not something taken lightly."

Arthur blinked trying to make sense of the younger boy's words, "Then…then why are you telling me? If you aren't trying to make a joke out of my grandfather's name then why did you bring it up?"

The boy only shrugged again smiling again, "I figured it probably was bothering you not knowing. And because I trust you not to say anything."

Arthur removed his hands from the shoulders in front of him and briefly contemplated whether the boy could read his emotions or if he had only made a lucky guess. After all he was correct about the Brit being upset about not knowing why the message was sent…but the new information…he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Sometimes, I don't think it's a coincidence that we are named after them."

Green eyes opened wider than he thought possible, "What are you insinuating?"

Suddenly blue eyes took on a look of realization and the usually boisterous teen became nervous and skittish, "That's…ah…Th-that's not what I meant. I, uh, I just meant that I think it's cool that they used to be friends and life torn them apart. And…and now two generations later they both have grandsons carrying their name. It's kinda like fate gave them a second chance to try again….n-not with the love thing! Just the friendship thing!"

For a moment, Arthur thought that he was going to have a premature heart-attack at the boy's stupidity. That could be the only explanation for that pain he felt, after all.

"You're stupid."

"What?"

Green eyes glared into blue, "We aren't our grandfathers. Fate didn't give them a second chance. Fate didn't even give them a first chance. Your grandfather is the one that made the decision to leave Britain. Fate didn't decide that. Fate didn't bring me here. My grandfather's dying wish did. This meeting is of human intention not some mythical force that none of us can see. And….and I'm not your friend."

So, he shoved past the _naïve child_ standing in front of him and stormed down the hill. To be honest, he wasn't even sure what exactly he was upset about. He didn't know what Alfred had said to make him so angry. He knew the boy wasn't attempting to provoke him and he hadn't even done anything that would be a reasonable explanation for the rage in his veins. Nevertheless, the rage was there coursing like fire through his very being.

"Wait!"

His feet kept moving, ignoring the shout behind him. He didn't know where he was going. His family was staying at Alfred's home as there had been no other available places for them to stay when they arrived and Alfred was standing in the place he normally went to gather his thoughts. Arthur only knew that he wanted to get away.

But then he was sitting on the ground again, less than balanced because of the pull that had caused him to sit back down, staring into more than upset blue eyes, "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what I said but I'm sorry. I just…I really want us to be friends okay? Is there any way that can happen?"

"Why me?"

It was out of his mouth before he realized he was even going to speak.

"Huh?"

Arthur looked away, into the grass under his fingers, "Why do you want to be friends with me? I'm four years older than you and we've only just recently met. It makes no logical sense for you to follow me around all the time or try to be my friend when I'm going back to Britain soon and contact would be nearly impossible! Would you just think something through for once in your life!"

It had started as a whisper but before he knew it his words had become a shout. He didn't look up at the American, but he could feel the stare directed at him.

"I did. I've thought this through."

"Then why the hell doesn't it make any sense."

"Life doesn't make any sense Artie. You came here to deliver a message and found yourself stuck here because your family said so. I'm not stupid; I've noticed how much you want to leave. Sometimes, sometimes, I want to leave too. Maybe not the country but this area. I'm tired of being looked at as the kid that surely will carry on a legacy. I'm not my father's son, or my grandfather's grandson, I'm Alfred F. Jones and my life should have nothing to do with my father's. There isn't a war to fight anymore. I can't prove myself in town the way he did. I can only sit back and watch as the only people who talk to me are trying to associate themselves with my family. But Artie, you're different. You don't give a damn and you don't even think my granddad or dad are all that special. To you, I'm not a nameless son or a faceless grandson. I am Alfred and that's all I want to be. I don't know what you want from me in return but damn if I won't try and provide it. I want to be friends. Logical or not, that's what I want and it's up to you to decide."

Arthur sighed, "And if I say no?"

"Then I will pretend you didn't and keep trying."

"I won't be in this country much longer."

"You don't know that. Besides, we're both literate we can write each other letters."

"The letters will take months to get here. I'm telling you there's no way this is going to work. We can't be friends Alfred, there is just too much trouble involved with it."

He looked up again expecting the near-fifteen year old boy to look devastated but….the idiot was smiling at him. Suddenly, he felt almost as if he was a mouse that the cat had been playing with for its own entertainment. He gave the teen a wary look, "What's that smile about?"

Alfred shrugged, "I'm not giving up and so far your only protests are the fact that it will be long distance friendship. Surely I can convince you that I'm worth it by the time you go back to London. I know I can."

Arthur wasn't certain that the idiot even knew how he sounded. That he was... worth it? What a stupid idea.

A month later, Arthur was really starting to be angry with his family for not leaving earlier. He had suffered and endured Alfred's constant babbling and over the top ideas and insistence to be friends for what felt like forever. He had sat through every stupid conversation, thought through the flaws of every plan, and fought every declaration that Alfred was convincing him to be friends.

It just wasn't going to happen. There was no way a friendship over a distance that far would work or be worth it. After all, Arthur had no time for friends; he still had to finish his studies in law. Standing in same place he had been when Alfred first decided that they must be friends, Arthur stared out over the sea. It was that water that made everything impossible and frustrating.

Not that he actually wanted to be friends with the excitable young man.

He didn't.

But if he had, it would've been the ocean that was in the way.

"You know, Artie, I think we've been friends for a while now. You're just too stubborn to admit it."

"We're not friends."

Alfred laughed just a little ways away from where Arthur was standing, "Then why do I know so much about you? Surely, you don't tell mere acquaintances so much about your life."

Arthur wanted to deny the claim but he couldn't. Alfred probably knew more about him than his own family did. He knew how he struggled with his Grandfather and wanting to be like him. He knew that he didn't like his brothers very much. He knew that he felt like he was the only one in his family that was even trying to make their name something to be proud. Alfred knew his aspirations and the things he enjoyed doing. He knew most of the things that Arthur knew about himself.

Maybe it was because he felt like he knew very little about Alfred.

Maybe that's why they weren't friends.

The boy babbled constantly. He never stopped speaking; but, he rarely talked about himself outside of the numerous times he claimed to want to be a hero like his 'Pops'. In fact, Arthur wasn't sure that if he hadn't come to the country knowing Alfred's last name he would even know that much. Really, not many people in the Jones family seemed to talk about themselves very often. It was odd because, although Arthur knew they were all proud of their name they talked more about things outside of their reach than things that were close by.

"We're not friends."

Alfred slapped him on the back, "Yeah, yeah I know. You wanna know what? Tomorrow is my birthday and you're still here. I think that's the best birthday present I could ask for."

Arthur looked back at him, "Tomorrow is your birthday?"

Alfred tilted his head to the side, "Yeah. Didn't I tell you? I turn fifteen the day America turns fifteen. Pretty amazing huh?!"

Arthur blinked several times before the words truly sunk in, "Wait. Tomorrow is the fourth of July?"

"Yep."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, "God, I feel like such a traitor to my own country."

Alfred only laughed again, "You can't always be on the side of the ocean you feel like you belong on. Sometimes you gotta reach out and see the rest of the world."

Arthur glared at him, "I don't really think this country counts as 'the rest of the world' Alfred."

"Not even with me here?"

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed together, "What does that even mean?"

Alfred look away from him almost like a child that was trying to get away with something that was much too obvious, except, to Arthur, it wasn't obvious, "Nothing."

Another month later and Arthur had told Alfred more about himself than he knew there was to tell. He couldn't stop himself. It was like his words were compelled to run from his mouth and straight to the boy regardless of his own wishes. He never thought he had more to tell and then it was out of his mouth. Really, he was more confused than anything.

Regardless he was finally going home. It was just an hour before the ship would be ready to board and Alfred was waiting with him at the docks.

His family had stayed behind with Alfred's family. Actually, as far as Arthur knew they might have been staying behind permanently. They hadn't packed their bags and they hadn't said when they were coming home. Arthur only knew that he wished to finish his law degree in his home country and, so, he was going home. He wasn't going to wait on them anymore. He had to go.

He had to.

If he didn't go now...

He didn't want to think about it.

Alfred hugged him as the dock master called for passengers, "Don't forget that friends would write each other letters."

"We're not friends."

Then he got on the boat, determined to not look back again. He wasn't going to write letters. He wasn't going to think about the summer he spent there. He was going to go home and forget about it all and live his life as he planned.

Two months later he stepped off the boat with sixty letters in hand to send straight back to the former colonies. He had only taken four days to give in and start writing. It was almost as if he was talking to Alfred again and he couldn't stop himself from writing. He didn't know what was wrong with him; he just wanted it to stop.

He went back to school immediately and began where he left off. He only had a few months to go then he could practice law. Well, he could've practiced law without his studies, but he wanted to be the best of the best. Four days and four letters later he received 70 letters in the mail all from Alfred.

It didn't make sense. If Alfred was writing letters to him they should've come months after he returned home not four days later. In order for them to arrive so soon Alfred would've had to... Arthur quickly opened the first one and looked at the date. Sure enough, the letter was dated June 3rd, 1791. Arthur sighed, "He must've been writing them the whole time I was there. That idiot."

He wished he didn't hear the smile in his own voice. He wished he didn't sit down and read every single letter he had. He wished he didn't re-read them until he had them basically memorized. He wished... he wished the Alfred had told him all the things he wrote in person months ago instead of waiting for him to leave.

It was all there. The information about Alfred that came from the boy himself. What he thought about, what he had trouble with, what he liked and disliked, and through it all his determination to call Arthur a friend. Everything he could've wanted to know about the young man was there and he wished it didn't make him as happy as it did.

The following spring the boat docked in New York Harbor and Arthur had to fight his urge to stay on the boat for the roundtrip. The three months trip had been horrific with all of his worrying about the letters he would miss from Alfred. Maybe he should've told him he was coming.

"Alright, sir. You know what to do! These go to Britain like always."

Arthur stepped off the boat just before the sailor took his letters, "Actually those go right here."

Alfred froze, eyes wide, and locked eyes with him, "Artie?"

"My name is Arthur."

A grin lit up the boy's face faster than Arthur pushed himself out of other passengers' way. Suddenly, he was dropping his luggage and being lifted off the ground in the firmest hug he had ever received, "You're the best friend ever, Artie. Did you make the trip just to visit me? I bet you did! Say you did Artie! Say we're friends."

Arthur found himself laughing for the first time in what felt like forever, "Not all of that is true; but, yes, Alfred, we are friends."

 **Hello and welcome back to this story. I really hoped you enjoyed it. My friend wanted a sequel so here it is. Please Review they make me happy!**


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